Justice Isn't Always Sweet
by WillowEchoRiver
Summary: When a dangerous criminal escapes jail, Shawn thinks catching him will be a piece of cake. But soon things become much more complicated than they at first appeared, when loved ones lives are put on the line. Shules, rated K.
1. Chapter 1, Your Mother Would Be Ashamed

**Justice Isn't Always Sweet**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych, which is quite unfortunate, if you ask me.**

**Author's Note: I hope you guys enjoy this! It's my first Psych fanfiction, so I hope it's okay. **

**Chapter One: Your Mother Would be Ashamed**

Shawn eagerly unbuckled his seatbelt and practically flew out of the door of Gus's blueberry. "Come _on_ Gus! I have a good feeling about this case!"

"That it would be easy to solve? That would be ideal." Gus said, exiting the vehicle much more calmly then Shawn had done.

"No! I can sense it will be exciting!" He said, a hand flying to his head.

"You know I know you aren't Psychic, right Shawn?" Gus shook his head disapprovingly.

"I don't need to be Psychic to sense that this is going to be a good one! I could hear it in the Chief's voice. Now _come on," _Shawn threw open the doors of the Santa Barbara Police department and entered excitedly, with Gus following shortly behind.

"Jules!" Shawn cried cheerfully as he approached the blond detective's desk. Hardly anyone paid attention to this loud entrance, they were used to it by now.

Jules didn't look amused as she looked up at Shawn and shook her head, a frown on her face. "Shawn, the Chief wants you in her office. Come on." She got to her feet and led Gus and Shawn into the Chief's office where Lassiter was already standing.

"Why the long faces, everyone?"

"Mr. Spencer, please." The Chief said, holding up a hand to silence him. She frowned seriously before continuing, "Yesterday, a man name Grant King escaped from prison. He's a thief, and a dangerous one. If someone gets in his way he doesn't hesitate to hurt them. He was in prison two years almost to the day before he escaped yesterday. He's very violent, and we believe was made more so by his time in prison. Not to mention, he's one of the best thieves in Santa Barbara, and we _need_ to catch him."

"I have a question," Shawn said, raising his hand into the air, "Why say 'not to mention' if you plan on mentioning it anyway?"

Nobody warranted the question with an answer, so Shawn lowered his hand and studied the serious faces of the people surrounding him, "We can help you catch this guy, no problem." He said, trying to keep his voice light to ease the mood. But something about the tension on the faces of the people around him made his confidence fade slightly.

"Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster, Detective O'Hara will fill you in on the rest." the Chief said, waving a hand in the air to signal them to leave, letting out a sigh as if to release stress.

Shawn and Gus followed Juliet out of the Chief's office, they were barely out the door when Shawn burst out, "Jules! What was that about? Lassie hasn't insulted me once since I came through the door and I think-"

"Shawn! King is dangerous, that's the bottom line, and if we don't catch him...Who knows what he'll do?" Juliet interrupted, sounding rather annoyed.

Sounding a little more serious then Shawn, Gus asked slowly, "Juliet, Chief Vick said that you would fill us in on the rest...?"

"Two years ago, Carlton let me take lead on what seemed a simple case of a few small burglaries. But it just escalated from there, the house robberies turned into department store burglaries and those turned into museum robberies until it was obvious this was no amateur thief. Every case was connected and, eventually, we managed to trace it all back to King and his buddy James Daniels. We found their hideout, but when they knew they were going to be caught they wanted to go down fighting. Daniels was killed in the crossfire, and King decided to cut his losses and come with us. I cuffed him and brought him in myself. Millions of dollars worth of art was recovered. And yet somehow, yesterday, he escaped."

Shawn and Gus were both silent for a time, before Shawn asked hesitantly, "So, when you say this guy is dangerous... You mean he is strong and mean, but overall not too bad, right?"

"When we say King is dangerous... We refer to the fifty officers who died trying to bring in two men." Jules replied gravely, her face pale.

00000

Shawn and Gus sat in the Psych office thinking over the case they had been given. Shawn sat with his feet up on his desk tossing a baseball into the air and catching it over and over again.

"Man, did you Jules? She looked...I don't know. Kind of scared." Shawn told Gus, though he was mostly just thinking out loud.

"I would be too! Those guys hold grudges, Shawn!" Gus shook his head, and looked down at the file they had been given by the police department. It was full of information that might help them with the case.

"Poor guy's mother must be so ashamed of him!" Shawn commented, with a small laugh. Suddenly however, he sat up straight, taking his feet from his desk. "What's it say about his mom on there, Gus?"

Gus seemed about to comment on how Shawn should read it himself, but changed his mind and turned the page on the file. "She lives in Santa Barbara, just a couple miles away. She's 63."

"Sweet. Let's go." He jumped to his feet, and he and Gus hurried outside.

00000

Before long, Shawn and Gus were sitting on Mrs. King's couch eating a plate of cookies and drinking two glasses of milk.

"Now, boys, what did you want to know? I've seen you on the news plenty of times!" Mrs. King said in a cheery voice.

"Could you tell us anything about your son?" Shawn said, through a mouthful of cookie.

"I heard Grant escaped from prison yesterday, but I haven't heard from him. Dear boy, never wanted me to get caught up in his nonsense."

"If you can call killing fifty officers nonsense..." Gus said almost inaudibly.

"You have no idea where he might be?" Shawn asked, hoping she'd tell them something useful.

"I'm afraid not." Mrs. King said, frowning slightly. Then she smiled again, "But I'm sure he'll make an appearance one of these days! He was always too prideful to be secretive, that dear, dear Grant!"

Shawn and Gus exchanged looks of disbelief at her adoring tone, but thankfully were saved from making any sort of reply by the ringing of Shawn's cell phone.

"Lassie, what's up?" Shawn asked, eager to hear whatever news the detective was delivering.

Gus gave Shawn a questioning look, but the fake psychic gave no explanation.

"We're on our way." Shawn hung up the phone and looked from Gus to Mrs. King,_ "_He's 'made his appearance'" Shawn said, using air quotes, but the look on his face was unusually serious.

**Author's Note: Well, this is my first Psych fanfiction. So please be gentle! But I would love it if you guys would review and tell me what you think. I love constructive criticism! Were people out of character? Please let me know! If I get lots of reviews I'll be encouraged to update soon!**


	2. Chapter 2, You're No Poet! And

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.**

Author's Note: So, this fanfiction is Pre-Shules, (currently, at least! But keep in mind the description does say 'Shules' and you can count on it becoming such!)

**Oh, and the chapter title IS purposely 'realize' instead of 'know it'. Also, brownie points to the people who catch the not-so-obscure TV references and tell me in a review!**

**Chapter Two: You're No Poet! And You Don't Even Realize It!**

Shawn and Gus drove towards a small park near the Police Station, where Lassiter had instructed them to go. He hadn't given them any information about what had happened there, he just said that it had to do with Grant King.

"What could he have stolen from a park?" Shawn wondered out loud as they came to a stop in the small parking lot, where three or four police cars were already parked, their lights flashing in the air.

"This doesn't look good." Gus said, as they both unbuckled and got out of the car.

As they walked towards the crime scene, they could see yellow tape surrounding the nearby area, and Juliet walking towards them.

"Jules! You came to meet us! What's up?" Shawn asked, keeping his voice lighthearted as usual, despite what appeared to be a serious situation. Though he didn't know much about it yet.

"Oh, hey, guys. Carlton is waiting for you over there." She said, motioning over her shoulder and continuing to walk past them, but Shawn caught her by the arm to stop her from continuing.

"What happened?" He asked, his eyes clouding with concern when he realized how pale Juliet looked.

"King has killed a girl, Shawn."

"Oh." He said, surprised. He'd always thought big thieves had a little more self control. He'd always supposed they didn't kill in cold blood. He'd been wrong.

He saw Jules look down at where he still held her arm, and he released her, allowing her to walk past him again. He watched her leave, wondering why the murder had affected her so much. She was a police detective. She was used to this. So what was wrong?

Pondering the question, he led the way to where a group of officers were standing near yellow tape that marked the crime scene. When they were close, they could see a young woman lying motionless in the park, but she could almost have been sleeping. Shawn swallowed. He always tried to keep things light in situations like this, but it wasn't because he was a heartless monster. It was because the alternative was to let the true horror of the situation envelope you, and if you did that, the crime would become too heartbreaking to solve.

He heard Lassie saying, "...Her name was Marie Smith, she was 26 years old, King left a note." He said, holding an envelope in his plastic glove covered hands.

"What's it say?" Shawn asked, curiously.

Uncomfortably, Lassiter cleared his throat, took the note out of the envelope and read clearly,

"Detective,

Fighting for Justice, are you?  
So this is what I'll do,  
In the name of Justice will repay,  
Everything you took that day,  
Her life for his,  
but mind this!  
Prison life is no life,  
So I'll take yours to end this strife!  
All of this in Justice name,  
Tell me, what have I not to gain?

G. King."

"Woah, that guy thinks 'name' and 'gain' rhyme? Seriously?" Shawn asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Shawn!" Gus said, his voice annoyed.

"What? I was just saying! Anyway, you sure King left that?" He asked, directing his second question to Lassiter.

The detective nodded, though annoyance was written on his face, "It's his handwriting, but we're going to check it for prints just to be sure."

"So what's this guy have against you, Lassie?" Shawn asked, keeping his voice light and cheerful.

"Spencer! Have you even been paying attention? King couldn't care less about me."

"It's me he has something against, Shawn." Juliet's voice came from behind him. He figured she must have just come back from wherever she had been off too.

"Wait a minute..." Shawn held up a hand and thought for a moment, "Wait, '_Her life for his'_ This girl is 'her' right?" He said, motioning to the dead body, "And '_His_' must refer to his buddy, Daniels. But why her?"

Juliet swallowed and replied in a strained voice, "My best friend in college, Shawn. She didn't even live in Santa Barbara, but he found her."

"Oh, Jules..." Suddenly Shawn hated himself for his insensitive comments, he tried to think of some kind apology, but nothing came to him. That just wasn't his forte. Thankfully he was saved from having to say anything by the chief, who chose that moment to speak.

"As a murder is now involved, this case has become that much more serious. We _need_ to find King. Mr. Spencer, if you _divine_ any, and I mean _any, _information about where he might be, tell us right away. Don't go near him yourselves. King is dangerous. I can't stress that enough."

"Chief! Chief! Don't worry! Gus and I have got this covered! Don't we, buddy?" He said, patting Gus on the shoulder.

"You know that's right." Came Gus's assurance.

The chief gave them a look indicating she wasn't so sure.

0000

Gus and Shawn sat in the Blueberry wondering what their next move should be. Shawn thought about all the things that had happened at the crime scene, and everything he had been told about King and tried to piece together where he would go next. But nothing seemed to come to him, psychically or otherwise.

"I'm not getting _anything_, Gus. I mean, why are my awesome psychic detective skills failing me now?" Shawn let out a dramatic sigh and folded his arms, as if somehow pouting would make things better.

"Shawn, I think sometimes you forget you don't _have_ awesome psychic skills."

"Ah, but I meant to stress the '_detective_' part of that sentence. But _where_ would his hideout be?"

"He could be halfway across the world by now." Gus told him, which was true, but something told Shawn that King was nearby.

"No. His mother is here, I don't think he'll leave her without meeting her somehow. He sounded like a momma's boy to me." Shawn relayed his thoughts to Gus, but he stopped talking for a moment as his mind drifted back to the note King had left behind. "Dude, I can't believe he killed Jules' friend all the way from Miami... I mean, either this guy is really determined, or something doesn't add up." Shawn frowned as he thought out loud, and then suddenly a thought occurred to him. "Hey Gus, I think I can figure out where King is!"

"What? How?" Gus demanded, looking like he couldn't decide if he was more speculative or surprised by what Shawn told him.

"Think about his note... Hey, do you still have Mrs. King's number written down?"

"Yes, here, why?" Gus asked, handing him a piece of paper with the phone number written on it.

"Sweet," He quickly dialed the number and listened to the ring tone, tapping his fingers on the glass windows impatiently.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. King! Hi!" Shawn said, cheerfully.

"Oh, hi Mr. Spencer! How can I help you?"

"I was just rather curious, did Grant like poetry?" Shawn asked, trying to keep his tone light and conversational. He wanted Mrs. King to tell him a lot about her son, but she might not do that if she thought they were about to find him.

"Oh, he simply _adored _poetry. You know he would always hang out at that 'Poet's Know it' shop down the street? Anyway! Why do you ask about my dear boy?"

"Oh, simply curious, thank you Mrs. King!"

"Any time, Mr. Spencer! You and Mr. Guster feel free to come by for cookies at any time. You two boys were just such sweet visitors!" Gushed Mrs. King, cheerily.

"Thanks, Mrs. K! We'll do that! Bye!" He hung up the phone and looked at Gus, "Drive straight down the street, I'll tell you where to go. Also, at some point we are invited for cookies at Mrs. King's house. Do you think she'll still like us if we arrest her son?"

"Somehow, I think not." Gus said, "I am not driving though, Shawn. We're _supposed_ to call the chief if we know where he is."

"No! Gus! That would cause all sorts of problems. First of all, the police couldn't be sneaky at all. It's daylight and King will start shooting like he did last time. Nooo, we gotta be subtle this time, Gus!"

"You say 'this time' like we don't make the same mistake over and over again!"

"Aww, come on! When has it ever been a mistake?"

"Well, let's think, the time we snuck onto that oil rig and got locked in a closet with toxic gas and nearly shot! The time we got strapped to chairs and nearly killed by a serial killer, the time we-"

"But think of all the times it's _worked_ Gus, now come on! Drive!"

"You owe me about a thousand times." Gus said grudgingly.

"Sure, buddy, but let's go!"

00000

They pulled into an extremely tiny parking lot with only three parking spots. It sat right in front of the small store that sold entirely books about poetry. The shop looked worn down and almost like it could fall over if they opened the door. On the front of it a sign read 'Poet's, Know It'

"Man, who would want to hang out here?" Shawn said, wonderingly as he stared at the pathetic excuse for a building.

"A murderer, that's who!" Gus replied in a hushed voice, "Now, come on Shawn. Call Lassiter and Juliet."

"I thought we already talked about this?" He exclaimed, rolling his eyes at Gus, before looking around the cars in the tiny parking lot. Two of the three parking spots had already been occupied by cars when they arrived, now all three spots were taken. Shawn had to guess that one car belonged to an employee, while the other must be a costumer's, probably Grant King's. Or at least, a car that Grant King had either borrowed or stolen.

"Besides, another car won't even fit in here, so that answers the question! That's that and no harm done."

"I'm not so sure about the 'no harm done' part." Gus replied immediately,

"You must be one of those 'Glass half empty' kind of guys." Shawn commented to his friend, as he began to approach the door of the little shop.

"No, I'm just smart, Shawn! And I know when it's a good idea to call the police. Do you know who dies in horror movies? The idiots who look for trouble!"

"Also, the cute blonds." Shawn commented, looking amused. Suddenly, though, he halted and spun around to face Gus, and with an extremely serious look on his face said, "We need to tell Jules to dye her hair!" His face broke into a grin, and satisfied with his joke, he turned and opened the door of the shop wide.

A bell above the door rung, signaling their entrance to a young woman standing behind the cash register. The woman was thin and frail looking, with messy brown hair and dark lines under her brown eyes. Though not as old, she looked about as worn and frail as the little shop did. Her eyes were wide, as if she were surprised at having new visitors.

After a whole minute of silence had passed, the woman's words came out in a blur, "Hi! Welcome to Poet's Know it! Feel free to look around and let me know if you need anything!" She sounded almost nervous. She probably wasn't used to costumers, Shawn figured.

"Thanks. We're just going to look around." Shawn said calmly, but the woman jumped nervously when he spoke.

Shrugging, he and Gus made their way to the back of the store, and since it wasn't very big, that didn't take long. There were probably only eight aisles of books from the front of the store to the back, four on each side. And Gus and Shawn looked down each aisle as they walked, but all seemed empty. When they reached the back, they saw two small reading chairs with a coffee table in front of them. They almost didn't fit behind the book shelf, and were so close that it would have been difficult to actually find any books on that side of the shelf without running into a coffee table.

Sitting in one of the chairs was a thin man, probably in his late twenties. He had black hair and his face was buried in a thick book of poetry. He looked totally wrapped up in what he was reading, and he didn't seem to notice Shawn and Gus there.

"Hi!" Shawn burst out suddenly, causing the man to look up at him. "My name is Shawn, and this is my buddy, Doctor Horrible."

"I hope you've seen my blog?" Gus asked, playing along.

"Uh, no. I'm sorry. You're a doctor?" The man asked, seeming confused by the fact that two strangers were speaking to him.

"No, his first name is Doctor. His parents were rather odd. Also, fans of that strange British science fiction show."

"That's Doctor Who, Shawn, and it's actually pretty good." Gus replied, in an almost disapproving voice.

"Just because it's strange doesn't make it bad, Dr. H!" Shawn gave Gus a hearty pat on the shoulder, before turning back to the man in front of them, "What's your name, buddy?"

"Uh. Grant."

Shawn was a little surprised that such a thin, normal looking man could be considered a violent criminal, "Hi Grant! You like poetry, huh?"

The man's face lit up, and he said quickly, "Cast me upon some bare shore, where I may trek. Only the print of some sad wreck, if thou be there, though the seas roar. I shall no gentler calm implore."

"Wow, that's good. Did you write that?" Shawn asked, in a friendly manner. Even though he really couldn't have cared less about poetic genius.

"No. It's by Habington. It was quoted in North and South, by Elizabeth Gaskell."

"You know, Grant, my buddy Dr. H and I are having a little poetry reading, down at our place. Where folks can come and read some of their own poetry, or some that they just enjoy. If you know, you want to come?"

Grant smiled and said, "Really? Thanks! That'd be great!"

"Sweet! See you there!" Shawn said, writing down an address on a piece of paper and handing it to Grant. "8:00 PM sharp!"

"I'll be there!"

0000

As they walked away, Gus said, "That was possibly the most idiotic thing you've done today, Shawn! Giving him our office address?"

"Don't be silly Gus! I gave him my father's address! Not Psych's. Also, invite a date! We need to make this look like a pre-planned event. I'll invite one too."

"I am not going to bring a girl I _like_ to a poetry party with a murderer!" Gus objected.

"Oh, Grant King isn't a murderer. He was framed."

"Juliet _saw_ him kill fifty officers!"

"I'm sure there's a way to explain that too. We just have to investigate more."

"Why do you think he isn't a murderer?" Gus asked, the annoyance had left his voice and was now replaced by curiosity.

"Did you see how wrapped up he was in his book? A man who had just murdered a girl wouldn't have been able to sit so still. But he hardly moved until we talked to him! Also, I mean, did you look at him? He is hardly murderer material. And, did you not _hear _that poem that was left? If he loved poetry so much, don't you think he'd have left a higher quality poem? Oh no, Grant King was definitely framed. We just need to find out by whom."

**Author's Note: I realize I slightly misquoted that poem (Habington) but it was only slightly edited to make it more understandable. So if anyone who knew that poem before reading this story was wondering why it wasn't exact, that is why :) Also! Brownie points if you knew it before. Isn't it a lovely poem? And I'm not even big on poetry! Also, points to anyone who got the Doctor Horrible and Doctor Who references! :) Please, please review!**


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